The Seven Seas
by Maggiles
Summary: Every year, London's aristocrats hold a grand Masquerade ball, a ball which Bella Swan detests. For you see, the ball is held in rememberence of Edward Cullen, the prince who vanished two hundred years ago. Legend says, he's coming back with a vengence.
1. Chapter 1

The Seven Seas

Chapter One: The Legend

By: Maggiles

"_There is an ancient legend which warns that, should we ever learn our true origin, our universe will instantly be destroyed."_

_-Len Wein_

**Bella**

My mother always told me a story, year after year.

Although now, it might be considered more of a legend. Ever since I was born, it seemed that the story of the lost boy was always dear to my heart. It was as if I felt a connection-some otherworldly tie with the tale, as if I was somehow involved. All I know is that long ago, I had received a necklace, an angels wing, from a stranger I had come across in the street. Of course I had never told anyone about it, but I always believed it was the key that connected me to the boy in the tale.

When I was younger, much younger, I used to cry over him.

I would feel bad that he was taken away from home, never seen again.

I would feel bad that he never got to see his parents one last time.

I would feel bad that he was lonely wherever he was.

But that was a long time ago.

It seems that over the years, a person's conception and thoughts of a past feeling is turned around inevitably. For now, I no longer shed tears over the boy who lost it all. I no longer stay up all hours of the night, worrying, worrying if he had enough food to eat on his journey to the unknown.

No....no longer.

Now that I'm seventeen, I've developed different feelings.

Now, I _wonder_ what the boy had done once he got stolen that dark night.

I wonder what he had done to stay alive.

I wonder if he had ever escaped, and if he did, _how_.

And probably most important of all, I wonder _who_ had kidnapped him.

….Not that it was all to far fetched from reality to believe, which was why it made the tale so interesting. The boy stolen from home was the child of the most aristocratic family in the nation. Taking the boy and asking for a ransom would not be so intriguing.

But the fact that he was never heard from again, never found, never _seen...._well that's when stories and legends are made.

Some people say he was murdered from men who had come to hate his family.

Some say he was taken and made prisoner in some distant land.

But I don't believe any of it.

Naturally, even though I had come to the resolution that the boy in the story has been dead...maybe for a little under two centuries now, my heart and mind battle with each other every time he comes across my mind.

For you see, my mind tells me that that is all he is.

A legend.

It tells me that thinking too deeply about him, thinking too seriously about his story-well, it's downright foolish....

But that's when my heart takes over.

In my heart, it tells me that the boy in the tale somehow deserves to have a person's tear shed over him. It tells me that the boy and I are somehow, _someway_ not too far apart.

And as crazy as it may seem..... my heart tells me that the boy is still _alive_.

Hah.

I keep all my thoughts about the boy to myself, and for good reason. Should I ever tell another soul my insane feelings, I would be labeled a fool.

For you see, I am the daughter of Sir Charles Swan, the head chief of royal affairs. He and the royal family have been friends for centuries, which is probably the reason why the tale of the lost boy has been so deeply embedded inside of me-to the point where he has become a sort of obsession, a way to escape the conformed and judgmental role an aristocratic individual was forced to live.

With the lost boy, I could day dream and wonder about his adventures, his experiences, his emotions and whatever else there was to be imagined. In a way, I envied him. Envied his freedom, how all the baggage of life was thrown away and left behind, how he was free to make his own decisions.

But again, that was my fantasy.

Maybe the truth was much darker, more dreadful.

It's said that the lost boy was my age when he had gone missing. He was athletic, witty, intelligent, and the heir to the throne when his father was to pass. Around that time he had fallen in love, with a women who was beneath his social rank. His parents would not allow him to see her, so in secret they had murdered her, keeping her forever out of their son's grasp. Enraged, he swore that he would get revenge, that he would single handily destroy the monarchy and get his true love back. Months passed, and he was discovered missing. His room was torn to shreds and blood was spilled everywhere. Nobody knew what had happened to the boy, but stories upon stories had tried to explain it. His father had sent search party after search party, offered rewards, and anything else he could do to get his son returned, to get _any_ information that would lead to his discovery. Years passed, and there was still no sign of him. His father died shortly, a broken man.

The legend of the tale comes with a single person's eye witness. The person claimed that he saw white beings flying over the trees with a boy in their arms.

Of course after that the man was labeled as insane, shunned from the rest of society with his ludicrous claims, but I am hesitant to turn my back on the tale.

Maybe the man _had_ seen something...something supernatural.

Maybe he wasn't crazy.

Maybe the boy had striked a deal with the spirits, striked a deal to follow through on his threat.

Anyhow, much has changed from the heart breaking tale of the lost boy. What was once a sorrowful moment in history has been turned into a sociable scepticle. The royal family holds a ball every year on the boys missing day, as a _party_ of all things. I had never wanted anything to do with it, but as my fathers daughter I was under obligation to attend. It made my heart sour to see laughing and dancing at an occasion which broke an old mans will years before. In my mind, if there was to be an occasion of any kind, it should have been one of respect and remembrance, not one of farce and satire.

The Ball had always traditionally been a masquerade ball. All guests were to wear some type of mask, to role play the 'supernatural' kidnappers in the legend. And in a way, it was better. At least then I could escape from the horrendous occasion in disguise, and in solitude.

But even though it may sound incredibly ridiculous, maybe even child like, my heart still always raced when I stepped foot into the home where the lost boy had once lived.

For though it may sound insane, in my heart I always hoped that the boy would show up, to see his old home again in the arms of his love, and then to mysteriously leave once again.

Crazy, right?

And the one detail that always made my heart flutter was the sound of his name.

Edward Cullen.

**Edward**

It seemed to be raining harder then usual, the wind and droplets of water splattering violently against the windows of the small bar. The low mumblings of conversations ensued all throughout the little tamarack, and I had seated myself in a unsuspecting part of the bar, far from the mass body of people around me, yet close enough to overhear even the quietest of whispers.

I had given instruction to my crew to split up and search the city of Westminster inside out, for any leads or information, anything useful they could get their hands on that would help us with our search. The city of Westminster was nothing but a gigantic slum, filled with dirt, disease, harlots, and swindlers. It was definitely the definition of corruption, but because of the lack of laws here it was the perfect hideaway for criminals everywhere.

I could feel that this time around, we would get what we needed to know.

My glass of rum in the moldy cup in front of me lay untouched, my eyes busy scanning the room for suspicious activities. I noticed that I received some peculiar stares from the humans around me, no doubt in a state of wonder at my clean clothes and perfect features.

It was almost laughable, humans were, how easy it was to predict their actions and thoughts, without even the _slightest_ effort on my part.

They were all the same.

Greedy, selfish, sex crazed, and power hungry individuals. The only thing they were good for was hard labor, for information at a laughable price.......and also for the blood in their veins that had the power to sustain life for my kind.

For you see, my crew and I were no ordinary mortals, no ordinary beings roaming the earth.

My kind were different, more elite, more feared.

We were vampires.

We were the nightmares of human society, yet the angels they pray for in their churches.

We were the demons they so feared, yet the gods they believed in so much.

We had the power to take away in disguise as giving.

We were the most despised, yet the most respected creatures in creation.

We were immortal.

And yet it is even _more_ laughable, even more unbelievable that the object my crew and I were looking for was not one of making my kind even more superior, but one of making us the most vulnerable things on the planet.

Humans.

Why, you might ask, would we ever want to change our perfection for the very creatures we despised? Why would the lion ever want to become the lamb?

The answer is simple, really.

We wanted to get our humanity back.

All of us, every member of my crew, all vampires everywhere, had started off as a human. As a weak, simple minded, warm fleshed human.

And by one way or another, our humanity got stolen from us, taken away blindly and unwillingly, until we became what we are, the very things we despised in our previous lives.

I can't even remember what it felt like to breathe, to really _breathe_, to feel the heart inside of my chest throb with the life that I had lost so long ago. How did it feel to have soft flesh, to have your _own_ blood pumping in you, to know that despite being so defenseless, everything you had was all your own? How does it feel to have emotions-however silly they are-to feel anger, sadness, happiness...and even love?

We have all forgotten, and most of our kind have put their past behind them, have thrown away their identity completely for this new one.

But that's why we were different.

My crew is willing to throw away their power, to throw away their strength and wisdom to become what we were all once, to become a mortal once again.

And the only way we can ever accomplish that, the only way our insane dream can become a reality is if we gained possession of the elemental jewel.

Our legends say that millenniums ago, the first vampire was a human who wanted to become immortal. He made a deal with the gods, and in exchange, his heart got taken from his body and lost somewhere in the world. Inside his heart, contained all the humanity he had possessed. If one could find that jewel, if one could _grasp_ it in their hands, the humanity inside that jewel would become a reality once again.

And that is how my crew and I became to be. Although we were pirates in nature, we preferred being called marauders. We did steal, but for enjoyment. We did not kill unless necessary, and we had made a pact long ago that if we were to really to become what we wished to be, then it was vital that we did not engage in the drinking of human blood.

Although there have been a few mistakes here and there, we avoided it whenever it was possible. That's what made us different from the rest of our kind, the key factor that labeled us contrary to vampire myths.

But do not get the impression that we were the only ones in the vampire world that had the same system. There was one other group of vampires that had our same belief. They were a tribe far north, and we came in contact with them from time to time.

But we could not be _too_ friendly.

They had the same goal as us.

And do not be mistaken. Yes, the elemental jewel could be used to make one human, but it also had a darker purpose. If one were to use it for other intentions, the holder could very much destroy the world. Thousands of vampires around the globe have searched for it, yet it has never been found. It is the prize of the game that vampires everywhere have played, yet no one has won.

But we will be different.

My crew and I have discovered a lost truth, a piece of vital information that has been buried for millenniums to date....

The only person that can recover the jewel is a human.

And the only human that can do it must be related to the human that became the first of our kind.

Now, I know what everybody must be thinking.

That's far too vast a category! There are billions of humans roaming the earth, how is it possible you can find the ONE human who is capable of such a prestigious position?

Well, well.....when you have gotten all the information written down, you can start marking off the general audience.

The mortal in question is a mortal of aristocratic descant.

That piece of information has already crossed off 99% of mortals everywhere. There was only one problem left to solve, the only obstacle that had to be overcome for us to finally reach our goal.

Who would that human be?

"Edward!"

My eyes flashed to the source of the noise, and in my vision filled Emmet, my second in command. He was rather large, a bit hairy, but his smile and open personality made him my brother in any sense. I was about to wave him over to my table, but then Jasper, another brother of mine, entered the tamarack, looking my way.

"What are two doing here?" I asked, my voice low and irritated.

I watched as the whole bar had gotten noticeably quieter as the two walked over and took their seats beside me. "Did I not instruct you to search around Mulberry street? I'm sure you could have found _something_ of value there."

Emmet sneered. "What? Make us look around that dump when you're sittin' here havin' a drink? Nice try, brother."

Before I could respond, Emmet raised his hand to a waitress yelling, "Two pints of rum, and make em' fast!"

At this point in time, all eyes in the bar were on us, and I had to try very hard not to attack Emmet and strangle his neck.

"The reason why I came in here alone," I whispered, my tone acidic, "Was to not gain any unnecessary attention. But once again, you have decided to ignore my caution and proceed with your own plans anyhow."

My gaze was glued on Emmet as he smiled sheepishly, no doubt trying to sooth me over. But this was not new to me. Emmet had this undesirable habit of not thinking about his actions. It seemed that if I told him to do one thing, he would do it a competency different way.

…...Yet it was Emmet's integrity and brute strength that were powerful assets, which was why I had chosen him to be my second in command.

After silently apologizing, Emmet proceeded to elbow Jasper, whispering, "Hey, Jas, hurry up and make with the calm."

My gaze then turned to my brother Jasper, who sighed and gave Emmet a look of pure annoyance. I couldn't help but agree with his reaction. Wherever Emmet went, I always had Jasper to follow. It was situations like these that I knew Jasper was of the utmost importance to have along.

Jasper was a good sized man, with white blond hair and skin. He had been the second member to join my crew, back when it had consisted of nothing but Emmet and myself. Jasper had an impressive experience as a general in military affairs, and he was the main person I discussed tactile matters with.

Jasper looked at me. "I tried to make him stay with the mission, but the next thing I knew, he was gone."

I frowned, glaring at Emmet."Well, there's not much we can do about it now, can we?" I muttered, "A wave of calmness right now would be very much appreciated, Jasper. I assume Emmet agrees."

"Here, here." was Emmet's clever reply.

Sighing, Jasper smoothed his hair back. "Very well."

The process of changing atmosphere was a solely unique gift bestowed only upon Jasper. With the blink of an eye he had the power to make a room of men into a riot, or a violent rebellion into a peaceful affair.

But it was not only Jasper who had abilities beyond mortal recognition. All vampires everywhere had a power, an ability that went beyond mortal means.

For instance, my power is that of mind reading.

Any person within a thirty mile radius, their thoughts were not only their secrets. It was a perfectly, _stupendously_, useful ability, one that I admit has gotten me many things throughout my second life. It was the sole reason why I was able to pick a crew that I knew was one of true intentions.

On the other hand, it was also a pain in my neck. Dozens, even hundreds of spineless thoughts would make their way into my mind, driving me to the brink of insanity. It had taken many years of obedience and practice to be able to tune them out of my head, although I will admit, there are still a few mistakes that arise.

Emmet's ability is sheer strength, a strength that is even 100 times stronger then that of a normal vampire. He is able to destroy an entire building with one soft touch of his finger. But as you can imagine, it had taken countless of years for him and I to be able to control that strength, but I have to admit that he had become a master of control, at least as far as his power went.

Closing his eyes, Jasper's grip on the table tightened, and it literally felt as if a blanket of feathers had fallen upon every person in the room. The awkward silence that filled the bar previously had altogether vanished, and soon enough, normal talk and obliviousness ensued thought the tamarack. I exhaled.

"Brilliantly done, brother." I said, adjusting my seat, "Now may we get down to business?"

"Yes," Emmet said, suddenly serious, "Let's get on with it. You've got any news, Edward?"

Emmet and Jasper watched me in anticipation, probably expecting to hear some marvelous news. I frowned. "I have found nothing, yet," I muttered, my eyes looking back and forth inside the bar, "But I can feel that if we stay in this dreadful tamarack a bit longer, we will come across gold."

Jasper and Emmet didn't say anything after that, just sat in their chairs watching the place alongside me. However, our careful observations got interrupted as a waitress arrived at our table, in her hands two pints of rum.

"Here you go, handsome." she breathed, drinking the three of us in, "And it's on the house."

Emmet threw her a smile, and I winced as I heard her screams and shrieks inside of my mind. My lips pursed together as I gave Emmet a furious glance.

"Woops," he said, patting me on the back, "Sorry."

I heard Jasper exhale, and I couldn't keep myself from asking the obvious question.

"Emmet..." I said, my voice impatient and irritated, "Why in the world would you order two drinks when you _can't even drink them?_"

I didn't want to listen to his excuse, but he tried to defend his actions. "You have one yourself." he pointed out, gesturing to my drink, "And if we're gonna' blend in here, we might as well look the part."

"_Now_ you want to fit in?" Jasper hissed, exasperated, "Sometimes I don't understand why Edward let's you off the ship."

"I'm trying to figure that out myself." I muttered bitterly, re-focusing my attention on our surroundings. Emmet didn't say anything more, and that was for the better. I needed to make sure that this time around, we would get the information that we needed.

"And where are the rest of the crew?" I asked, keeping my attention on a group of men playing cards, "Have they excused my orders as well?"

Emmet didn't say anything, but Jasper cut in. "No. Before coming arriving here we saw the rest of them. I told them to keep searching around Chrissen, and I asked if they came across anything interesting. They said they didn't, but I can feel that there's something here."

My eyes cast downward in thought, for I refused to leave the tamarack until I came across something tangible, _something_ I could use to my benefit to help us along our journey. Our crew had already wasted enough years exploring...it was about time we came across the next clue.

"So....where are you boys headin?"

My eyes jerked upwards, attention suddenly caught by the unexpected question. In a second my eyes caught a glimpse of the waitress from earlier, her stale teeth flashing before us. If I didn't have control over myself, I wouldn't have been able to keep from rolling my eyes.

Sometimes it was hard for me not to just kill an annoying, persistent mortal.

"No where you would probably know." I replied, as politely as I could, "But thank you for your inquiry."

Jasper gave an encouraging nod, Emmet, a small smile. I mentally winced. I knew how hard it was for them when a human got too close. I could feel their bodies tense, ready for any immediate action. If the mortals were to touch us unexpectedly....well....I couldn't ensure their safety.

But then again they should know better.

Touching another person is dreadfully rude.

"You guys sure do look mighty fancy."

The waitress was leaning over our table at this point, her breath reeking of alcohol. I almost turned around in disgust. Humans were horribly disgusting creatures, and I tried to stay away from the lot of them whenever I had the chance. Unfortunately, fate had not dealt me a favorable card.

"Thank you, ma'am." I soothed, my expression one of courtesy, "My friends and I are not from this area, I'm afraid. And we will not be here for much longer."

"What a shame."

The waitress looked very disappointed-quite angry also. I could tell Jasper and Emmet grew inpatient of her presence, their looks one of contempment and displeasure. One look into her mind did not help her cause in anyway either: It was filled with pornographic fantasies about the three of us, and thoughts that I would rather choose to ignore.

Why was it, I thought, that all humans were controlled not by their mind, but by their unbelievably chaotic hormones? It seemed that instant sexual gratification was something that was expected, not earned.

But then again....mortals _did_ live for a ridiculously short period of time. If they did not get pleasure now, they would be dead the next week.

However, my attitude towards them would not change for some mere pity.

"If you don't mind, madam," I said again, attempting to get her out of my way, "But my friends and I would rather like to be alone. Your presence is one of utmost annoyance and usually, madam, I am the first to offer up some sort of conversation, but I find you, at this time, an _incredible_ nuisance. If you would-and I know that you do-like some lover of a sort, there are many other willing participants around you. But as for us, your departure would bring us an unmeasurable amount of joy."

I could tell that it took some time for the woman to register my words, but when she did, it was obvious she was not pleased. The shock on the humans face was one of humiliation, but I didn't feel the need to apologize. It was a rather bad time for her to barge into our conversation...she was lucky I felt the need to protect her.

Jasper and Emmet would have not been so generous. Her face turned red.

"How dare you?" she spat, her eye furrowing together, "And you call yourselves gentlemen, eh?"

"Madam," I sighed, " The sheer fact that you are still standing is proof that we are."

"The _nerve_ of you three!....bargin into this place dressed like the kings of Spain!"-she gestured to our clothing, which I had to admit was a little over the top for a dump like this- "And don't think that I don't know what you guys are really lookin' fer!"

Even though I know it was rather silly, I couldn't stop myself from tensing on the spot, my eyes ignited with fire. Was it possible she knew....?

"There's no doubt yer goin' to that fancy ball in London! All of them rich aristocratic scum bags are gonna be there."

I felt Emmet about to stand up and take action, but immediately I had placed my hand on his knee and made him sit still. My eyes quickly looked over to Jasper, and I knew that he had come to the same surprising conclusion as I had.

The same surprisingly _stupendously_ sweet conclusion as I had.

I cleared my throat. "A ball?" I asked, my voice suddenly sweet and gentle, "Why, madam, what ball are you speaking of?"

My eyes locked on hers, and I could see the rage in her face changing into a look of wonder and dalliance. I mentally praised Jasper, who had put to use his power once again. She was now putty in my hands.

"The ball held every year." she breathed, excited, "At the Lamherst Mansion...."

I waited, eager to hear more. This was the answer we had been waiting for! The lead that was sure to help us on our way. If all the aristocrats of London were to be at the same place for one night, why, that would save us scores of time and effort. All we would have to do snatch the right human, the right mortal who would accompany us on our journey. I could not believe our good fortune.

"It's held once every year....a masquerade ball. It's suppose' to be a tribute or somthin to the lost boy."

The lost boy?

I felt the fluids drain from my face, and what I once felt as joy and luck instantly filled with bitterness and hate.

The lost boy.

I felt Emmet and Jasper's eyes on me, no doubt in a state of uneasiness, anticipating my reaction. I took a deep breath.

"The lost boy, you say?" I resumed, my eyes dancing, "And what, my dear lady, is this lost boy anyhow?"

The waitress couldn't stop smiling, probably not believing her luck as to actually catching my interest.  
"It's a ball about that kid who got stolen' over centuries ago, I've heard." she rattled on, spilling her guts, "I think his name was Ednerd Mullen or somthin of the sort. Legend says he'll return from the dead and take revenge on the people who killed his lover.....awful if you ask me. And downright gibelike..."

The mortal continued to talk, but my eyes became downcast, my endless supply of patience seeming to run out. I was getting sick of mortal mentality and made up sentiments. If only they knew how lucky they were, how precious the gift of humanity and life really was.

It made me sick inside to see them waste it so.

"Disrespectful, you say?" I asked, idly yet coldly, "Do you really think that, madam, or are you just trying to sound wholesome to ignite some sort of sympathy from the three of us?"

My grip on the glass of rum tightened, my word dripping with acid.

I heard Jasper clear his throat, while Emmet tapped his fingers along the table's edge. I couldn't care less about their individual feelings about the matter, and truthfully I didn't give a damn about the mortals response either.

It was more of a statement then a question, but of course the human woman could not grasp onto that concept.

My comment seemed to catch her off guard, for she stuttered a few times before spitting out an answer. "Of-of course I mean it!" she defended, a little red, " A dead kid ain't notin' to be dancin' about, if you ask me. Even down ere' in Westminster we got some respect."

A few seconds of silence passed, the women looking postiveley frightened and abashed, probably ready to kill herself is I said she had upset me. My eyes traveled to the bar, where a group of women tried to catch my eye, where a group of men tried to mentally rip me apart. I could already tell from the many thoughts around me that I would not get any more useful information by staying here.

My eyes flickered over to Jasper and Emmet, their conservative stares waiting for my plan of action. Not taking my gaze off of them, I promptly reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small bag full of coins. I tossed it on the table, and it made an audible thug upon contact. The waitress's eyes widened in astonishment, and I could feel the stares of a few tables around us.

"I'm sure this will do for our drinks." I muttered quietly, "And one last question before we take our leave, madam, if you don't mind."

The woman had her eyes on the bag of money greedily, hungrily, that for a second I thought she had not heard my question. But finally she had looked up, star eyed. "Of course." she rambled, "Anythin."

I hesitated for a few seconds, wondering how valid her information would be.

After coming to the conclusion that I had nothing else to turn to, I forced a smile, trying to sound humane. "When is this ball to be taken place?" I asked, my eyes questioning, "Soon, I hope?"

"In two days time." she breathed, taken back by my intense gaze, " It's the anniversary of his disappearance.... But I warn you, yer goin' to need an invitation."

I almost chuckled.

Tipping my hat towards her, I smiled. "Thank you madam." I gestured to the bag of money, " You have been of the utmost help to us, I'm sure my friends would agree."

I turned to Jasper and Emmet who gave an encouraging nod. "Yes, most useful." Emmet muttered, giving a little bow.

"But I am afraid we must bid you a dolourous farewell, for we are running horribly late for the engagement. Good day."

"Go...good day."

Without a second glance I had gotten up and walked through the tamarack, exiting out of the door and into a downpour of rain.

Ignoring it completely I continued to walk down the muddy roads, back to my ship where I could finally get back to our mission.

Our mission that would finally become a reality.

Jasper and Emmet hurried to keep pace with me, our faces down and nonlooking at any passerbyers. The hard rain pelted at our bodies, drenching our clothes and hair, but we had developed zero tolerance for the elements long ago.

"Edward-" Jasper tried to cut in while attempting to keep by my side, "I can understand if you can't follow through on this task....it's not-"

"Do not be _ridiculous_." I hissed, the venom that had been building up inside of me finally unleashed, "My past is my past, and if it is standing in the way of my goal then so be it. I will crush it once again, and this time, mark my words, it _will_ be the end."

"Are you sure about this, brother?" Emmet breathed, his voice thick with apprehension, "Personally I don't think it's-"

"_Enough of this!" _

I had stopped walking, Jasper and Emmet following pursuit. I felt my fangs unleash, my eyes turning blacker then the dark sky above us. My body was trembling, a strange mix of rage and excitement coursing through my body, giving me a natural state of ecstasy. I could barley control myself from destroying this town, from turning around and destroying my very brothers.

I knew Jasper and Emmet were more then aware I was capable of doing exactly that.

Trying to console me, to _comfort_ me....it was laughable.

I was the oldest one of my crew and the only one with an aristocratic past. I had been the one to start my ship, and they all knew I was the most dangerous being of them all.

I had more power and more intelligence then I should have.

I could torture a creature-vampire or human-without even laying a finger on them. I could destroy a nation, a _world_ if I felt the need to.

And I was more then capable of destroying the people who made me into the monster I'd become.

Jasper and Emmet stood in front of me, silent.

It was not in their place to talk to me in such a manner, for they knew I was their superior, their better, their leader. All these years I had allowed them their freedom, but it was about time to put them back in their places.

"Remember yourselves." I whispered, my voice acrid, quiet, "And listen to my instructions: If you fail me again, then I will not be so forgiving, for I feel I have been very lenient thus far, but not anymore. We WILL go to that ball, and we WILL get what we are looking for.....all before the new moon takes cycle....I'm sure you understand why that is important."

The rain was splattering against us, my hair soaked along with every other part of me. "And besides." I smiled, looking at the clouds dripping with tears, "I say it's about time I visit my old home again. About time I make the legend come true..... I hope you gentlemen have got some decent attire to wear: We are going to attend my homecoming ball."

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! Here's my new story, and I'm excited to launch it. I had to revise Edward's part about 4 times, and it took me forever to get it alright. Hope you enjoy, and please please review, if you want me to update that is.


	2. Chapter 2

The Seven Seas

Chapter Two: Hostage

By: Maggiles

"_How ridiculous and unrealistic is the man who is astonished at anything that happens in life."_

_-Marcus Aurelius_

**Bella**

I could barley breathe, could barley take in an _once_ of air into my lungs while the maid pulled at the strings of my corset. My body was stiff, and I knew I looked absolutely _ridiculous_ trying to steady myself and suck in my tears.

"Just a moment more, madam," the maid encouraged, attempting to make me feel better, "A few more tugs and ties and we'll be all finished."

I felt very nauseated then, and I could feel my ribs starting to bend inside of me, an excruciating pain I had come to bear through my years,

"J..jus-just a fe..few more?" I choked out, my mouth formed like a fish's, trying to suck in oxygen, "...oal...alright..th-then."

I disciplined myself to take the pain without rebelling, and even though I had been forced into this devilish device all my life, it was still something I could never get used too.

How was it like, I wondered, to breathe normally, like a man?

Was it refreshing? Exhilarating? Not that I would ever get the chance to find out, anyhows. The only way a woman could get excused from wearing a corset is if she was with child.

And you could only be with child when you were married.

And I wasn't married.

And I didn't plan on marrying anytime soon, although my parents would like to think otherwise.

It seemed to me then that I would be wearing a corset for a veryyy long time to come.

"Almost finished." the maid chimed.

"Sure." I muttered.

The 'few moments' the maid had cooed to me before had turned into a few hours, and I could have almost fainted before I felt a giant tug on my back and a slap of approval.

I had to breathe literally from the tip of my mouth, sucking in only small pockets of air, while trying to look perfectly normal and in a natural state, ready for a _ball_ of all things. I then felt myself grow bitter feelings towards the maid, a women who I was sure never wore a corset in her _life_, seeing as how she was of very low class.

This, and a thousand _other_ thoughts roamed through the corners of my mind, which got interrupted as the maid glowed with a smile, carefully guiding me to the large mirrors in the back of my room. "There, madam." she sang, unpleasantly sweet, "The hard parts finished, now it's just dress and makeup."

"And how long will _that_ take?" I asked, sarcasm thick in my voice, " a few moments?"

"Just like before." was her clever reply.

I found that I couldn't say anything more after that; I was too _exhausted_ to say anything else, for the compression of my lungs took a while to get used to.

Not that I was terribly worried about fainting at the ball. When one wore a corset as daily as I did, you grew accustomed to the pressure on your body. A few hours, I thought, and I would be as good as new. It was always the first few moments that were the worst.

The maid who had fastened my corset did some final adjustments to it, eyed me a while for any other mistakes she might have missed, and then promptly scurried to the other side of my large room, pulling a velvet rope by the door. The rope was there for alerting other maids to hurry up out of whatever they were doing and to arrive at my room at once.

While she was busy tidying up my bed and putting things away, my eyes took the opportunity to drink in my form in front of the large three mirrors, my body which curved in an unnatural way, giving me an alarmingly small waist, busty breasts (Which is far from reality, really) and curvaceous hips that condescended down into long, slender legs. I would have sighed if I could. I would give anything if my body was naturally that feminine and perfect. Without my corset, I thought myself very much like a man.

I couldn't take too long eying myself, I shortly found out, for after a few minutes my doors burst open with the presence of dozens of maidens and tailors, all rushing towards me. A few held fabric, others pins and measuring tape, and still others combs, ribbons, and heating rolls. I mentally winced—they would have to be careful with me. One wrong move and I feared I would snap.

"Alright Madam." a short, rather skinny old man croaked, "You must stand up straight, your ball gown must be fitted perfectly. And after that is all said and done, th--"

"_Then_ you must hurry over to your powder room and let us finish you up."

My eyes diverted to my other side, where a large plump woman in her forties had cut in. Her face was powdered awfully white, with exaggerated eyeshadow and overwhelming blush covering her features, an eyeshadow that was a ridiculously bright shade of blue. I almost choked. I prayed that she would not make me look like such a fool. I would not be able to stand for it.

I was never the make up sort of girl.

And until a few years ago, makeup was scarcely ever used. But then the damned westerners had introduced it to England through trade, and it now seemed like women everywhere could not get enough of it. My thoughts traveled to my mother, who only wore red lipstick from time to time. Makeup, I thought then, would only look beautiful on my mother.

Not me.

"Elbows down, Mrs. Swan."

My thoughts got interrupted again, and I could only sigh and contend with the demand. Seven maids were busy all around me, pinning some things here, tightening a few things there, draping a little by my neck, cutting some fabric off, and a whole lot more that I could not describe. It seemed to me then that I would actually be finished quite quickly, seeing as how I had a thousand hands all working on me, and _only_ me.

"Step down from the stool, Miss. Swan," the old man directed, gesturing at some nearby maidens to grab something, "Your dress will be finished right after your face and hair have been properly dressed. Your father asked me to make you the most beautiful gown in the ballroom, and your grace, I will not fail on my call of duty!"

I couldn't even blink, nor had I the chance to open my mouth and argue before I was whisked away, finding myself somehow at the other side of the room, seated at my powder gallery. I had to breathe in short quick gasps, each time hoping my lungs would stay strong, and decide not to suffocate me instead. I couldn't even debate, object, or even ask for a little breathing break, because before I knew it my hair was being pulled into a million different directions, my face being forced into position by the same old lady who had spoken to me earlier. Her hands were alarmingly moist, warm, as if she had been soaking them prior to attending. Her nails were also short and bitten, but poorly hidden underneath red polish.

"Don't move, your grace." the lady breathed, her eyes on fire, "We have a lot to accomplish in such a short time."

Such a short time? It took hours just to wear my corset! What had they been doing since morning?

"Where have you been all day?" I asked, my temper flaring a bit, "Why would you wait until the very last hour?"

I flinched as I felt my hair being pulled, being rolled into a red hot iron which I could feel right down to my scalp.

"Because, your grace," the woman finished, "Your father had told the tailor to get silk, which took an unbelievably long trip to the market for. Also, he asked for red lip paint, which is the most expensive kind of all. My attendants had to wait in a merchants tent for hours while he made it, _fresh_. Pardon the long wait, Miss. Swan, but we couldn't help it."

After her explanation had been told, she promptly turned around to get more supplies from some maidens by the door. I had noticed that her answer seemed very well planned out, as if she was expecting me to ask her that very question. My eyes narrowed.

My hands gripped on my chair firmly, to the point where I could have ripped open the goose feather cushions.

Something was not right.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion, for I realized then that some things just didn't make any sense whatsoever. _Why_ would father go through all this trouble—a silk gown, red lip paint, extravagant ribbons-- if he was not up to something he knew I wouldn't approve of? It was not like I had never been to this ball before....why all the trouble for _this_ one?

And _why_ would he even bother for makeup of any kind? I would be wearing a mask for goodness sakes! Nobody would even be able to see me, to even be able to _tell_ who I was!

Yes, I thought, something was definitely going on, and I knew that I was the only one in the mansion who probably had no idea what it was.

But I was going to find out, one way or another.

**Edward**

"Captain, we've already anchored the ship to the ports. The men are awaiting further instructions."

Gilbert, a rather shy, yet cunning member or my crew stood in front of the doorway, eyes glowing with anticipation. I mentally smiled. He and every other crew member aboard must have had some thought as to why I had suddenly forced them to sail east, like a mad man, and then making them anchor into a rich little prominent city such as London.

Not that I was questioning his thoughts.

He was practically _yelling_ them at me, unbeknown to him at least.

"Thank you Gilbert." I said, giving him a nod, "Tell the men I'll be there shortly. In the meantime, go tell Emmett and Jasper to get the ship prepared—no explanation needed, my friend, for they are more than aware of my plans. And in about an hours time, so will you."

Gilbert gave me a reluctant glance before turning to leave. But just moments before he left the door, he turned back around, eying my hopefully. "Did you find something?" he asked, his voice encouraging, "is it something important?"

Now, I couldn't blame Gilbert's curiosity.

The fact that vampires were curious at all was nothing short of a miracle, but the fact that Gilbert was curious must have been eating at him alive.

I nodded. "Yes." I sighed, relieved that we were finally on the right track, "I would say you would be most pleased when you hear the news. After all, we've waited long enough, I think."

A grin spread across Gilbert's face, a grin I couldn't tell where it came from—excitement? Or apprehension? Whatever it was, the door closed with an audible 'click' as he left the room, leaving behind him a thick presence, the sort of feeling of being watched, being observed.

I ignored it.

Reaching into my desk drawer, I pulled out a thin silver chain, and attached to that chain was a single angel's wing.

My eyes grew soft as I traced the wing over and over again with my fingertips.

It was only half of the real necklace, the second angels wing belonging to the love I had lost long ago. We had promised to keep them forever, as a testimony of our love, as a symbol to show the whole _entire_ world that we were together, to show that she was mine, and I was hers.

But that legacy was never to take off.

The evil of humans and their complete selfishness had struck me with disbelief from my mortal years up until now.

Their belief of 'higher rank' and 'lower rank', their belief of aristocracy and commoners, their simple belief of 'better blood'......it made me want to leave their lives in total devastation, to make them as miserable as I was, to punish them and take vengeance for my _love_, for the one person in my entire life who had made me happy, who had held me up when I thought I would fall down.

_THEY_ took her away from me, _THEY_ killed her in cold blood, _THEY_ were the reason that I became _this_, the reason I became a monster who wanted to take back the humanity _they _had stolen from me.

It was all because of _them_.

Without even knowing it, my hands had clutched into fists, trembling, with the necklace in my grasp, getting tighter and tighter.

An alarm went off inside my head, and I gasped, letting the necklace fall from my hold and onto the table, an audible _plunk _echoing from the impact.

I breathed out slowly and closed my eyes.

I knew that I had to control myself.

I knew that I had to stop acting irrationally, had to stop behaving in such an obscene way, acting out my actions before thinking about them.

I knew that I couldn't change the past....I could only attempt to change the future.

Opening my eyes and looking down at the fallen ornament, my eyes grew soft.

"Tanya....." I whispered, her name bringing back indescribable pain, "I'll get revenge for you, I swear."

Moments of silence passed by, and my attention was lost, and all I could see inside of my mind was the beauty of her face, the blush on her cheeks, the feel of her touch. I remembered her smile and her laugh, could taste her lips on mine, could smell her scent, could almost reach out and trace her.

Even now she was still the most significant person in my life.

Even now she had this power over me.

Even now, after all these centuries without her, I found that I was still in love with her.

Still missing her.

I inhaled slowly, the cool air of the ship a key factor in calming me down. Stroking the necklace one last time, I grabbed it from the desk and quickly put it on and stood up, hiding it underneath my shirt. Snatching a hat from the rack, I put it on and left the room.

Now it was time for business.

The polished floors of the ship seemed to glow more then ever, as if they also knew of the momentous moment that today would bring.

The narrow hallways only reminded me of the freedom I would soon have, reminded me of a coffin, reminded me on how sweet this victory would feel, how sweet it would _finally_ feel.

Soon I had arrived at a small flight of stairs.

I took in a breath.

Climbing up, I reached out and grabbed the handle, resulting in the door opening grandly, the bright light of the setting sun engulfing me in it's grip.

"MEN!" I bellowed out, my eager crew filling my vision to overflowing. I stood at the top of the ship, the bright skies causing an immense glitter to coat each and every one of my men, from their heads to their feet, which stood grounded on the ships floor.

They were everywhere: From the tops of the sails to the edge of the railings, all of them waiting anxiously for my orders, waiting anxiously for the sweet words of victory to finally fall from my lips. The shine that illuminated from the men overpowered the glow of the sun, overpowered that object of fear that my men and I had been hiding from all these centuries. For now, the universe was in cower:

We would soon be invincible.

"MEN!" I repeated, looking out across the ship to the eyes of my comrades, "FOR A COUNTLESS NUMBER OF YEARS WE HAVE BEEN _**CURSED**_ TO LIVE AS FIENDS, ONLY TO COME OUT AT NIGHT AND HIDE DURING THE DAY. FOR A COUNTLESS NUMBER OF YEARS WE HAVE BEEN _**FORCED**_ TO ACCEPT THE FACT THAT WE COULD NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN, NEVER BE ABLE TO EAT, DRINK, OR TAKE PLEASURE IN OUR DESIRES. FOR A COUNTLESS NUMBER OF YEARS WE HAVE HAD TO _**ACCEPT**_ THE FACT THAT OUR HUMANITY HAD BEEN _STOLEN_ FROM US, HAD BEEN TAKEN FROM US WITH CRUEL AND MERCILESS HANDS. BUT WE HAVE NEVER GIVEN UP OUR GOAL, NEVER BACKED DOWN FROM ANY OBSTACLE THAT HAD BEEN IN OUR PATH. WELL, TONIGHT, OUR EFFORTS WILL HAVE _FINALLY_ BEAREN FRUIT! _TONIGHT_ IS THE LAST DAY OF OUR ETERNITY. _TONIGHT_, WE SHALL AT LONG LAST HAVE IN OUR GRASP"- I gestured to my hand, pointing roughly at the sky- "WE SHALL FINALLY HAVE THE ELEMENTAL JEWEL _IN OUR CLUTCHES_!"

An _immense_ roar of cheering and yelling erupted from the crew, jumping and shouting, dancing and clapping, the excitement was simply _uncontainable_. I felt the ship shake from underneath my feet, as the crew had begun to scream my name over and over again.

My eyes darted to Jasper, who had been balancing on a rope from the crow's nest. His smile shown brighter then ever as he gave me a small nod of approval.

Soon after that Emmett caught my gaze, his grin bigger then I had ever seen it, his voluminous laugh loud, his eyes bright and dancing.

And then my eyes rested on what was in front of me.

As I looked upon my crew, looked upon the setting sun, looked upon the city that I had vowed never to return to, as I looked upon all the memories of my mortal years up until this point, for the very first time in my _existence_, I almost felt.....alive.

I could feel the ocean wind splashing against my face, tousling my hair.

I could smell the salt of the seas tickle my nose, could hear the gentle roar of the waves as they splashed against the harbor.

Yes.

The day had finally come.

"MEN!" I shouted, raising my hand to silence them. Almost at once they had stopped their celebration, their roars quieted down, their eyes watching me in anticipation.

I cleared my throat.

"Yes," I breathed, letting the reality of the situation sink in, "We have almost found the missing piece of our puzzle, the crucial last part that will bring our vision to a whole: But let us get things straight. Tonight, we must be on our most candid behavior. We must dress our best, and always be sure to wear a mask upon your faces. NEVER let anyone see your identity, and if you can, avoid any contact. Keep in mind that we shall be surrounded by _mortals_, and _hundreds_ of them: For those of you who cannot control yourselves, it's best that you stay here. And for those who are ready......" a smirk played upon my lips as I felt my eyes narrowing with vindication " Let the ball begin."

**Bella**

Hours had passed since my conversation with the servants, and yet my curiosity was still unquenched, my questions still unanswered. When I had arrived down the steps of the mansion, my mother and father had gasped with astonishment.

"_Bella_!" Renee breathed, her eyes widening with disbelief, "You look absolutely _beautiful._ My dear, you will be the most angelic sight at the party!"

She had glided towards me, her blue ball gown swishing underneath her feet. Grabbing my face, she squeezed me for a hug.

I rolled my eyes. "A party?" I mumbled bitterly, "I thought it was supposed to be a remembrance ceremony...."

Charlie was the second one to greet me, his hands in the pockets of his tux as he mumbled awkwardly, "You look great, Bells."

I attempted a grin. "Thanks Dad."

I heard a few murmurs around the room, all the maidens and servants staring at me and pointing, gasps and whispers echoing throughout the space, falling conveniently into my ears. I had to stop myself from picking my fingers, something I naturally did when I felt uncomfortable.

I hated intense stares.

"I guess all that preparation was well worth the expense." Charlie continued, his eyes dancing with self satisfaction, "And it better have. Cost me a small fortune, it did."

His gaze never left mine, his eyes studying me, his head nodding with approval every now and then. It made me feel anything but comfortable, and ordinarily, I would've told him to cut it out, but rather, I was able to ignore my self consciousness.

Only because his 'compliments' had reignited my probing questions.

Cost him '_a_ _small fortune'_?

What did _that_ mean?

And, '_it better have'_?

Why?

"Hey father...." I started to ask, concluding this was the perfect time to do so. If I waited until the ball, I would have no guarantee I could get him alone—let alone get his attention.

As I reached to tap his shoulder, my mission of getting answers was vanquished: I was rudely cut off by a servant who had burst through the doors, in his hands a scroll—no doubt the invitation to the 'party'.

"Your Excellencies!" he bellowed, his body bowing towards us, his uniform shiny and new, "The carriage is waiting outside. We best leave now, or else we shan't make it to the ceremony in time."--he paused and gave a quick glance outside, as if checking the traffic from our front yard-- "The streets are simply _alive_ with guests, we can't afford to lose our spots on the road..."

He continued to babble, with what I couldn't understand, and I continued to glare at him, annoyed and angry that he had to go and ruin the moment for me.

Regaining his composure, he started to turn around and leave for the door, _all_ until his eyes met mine.

And then, something funny happened.

His mouth formed into a huge "o", as his eyes grew wider and wider.

They were huge!

He looked taken aback, his gaze locked with mine.

I watched as he looked me up and down, adorning my custom made silk gown that stuck to my body like wet paper, watched as he drooled over my perfectly curled hair and shiny red lips that made my mouth look like a siren's song.

"R—right...right this way...." he stuttered, gesturing awkwardly to the door, "Th..the carriage is—is outside...."

The man looked so odd that I could hear my mom giggle right by me.

"What's wrong with him?" I whispered to her, my face in complete horror, "Why is he staring at me like that? It feels like he's trying to...to undress me!"

Renee smiled, her body shaking slightly with buoyant laughter. She hooked her arm through mine as we made our way out the door, the servant boy trailing hungrily behind us.

"That's just the way men show they are interested in you." she explained, "The more dazed they look, the more they want you to themselves: Although I will warn you that it usually results in more of a lust case than love...."

She continued to explain to me her philosophies on men, but I _still_ couldn't understand her meaning.

"What are you talking about?" I whined, "Just tell me in one sentence."

Frowning, Renee exhaled as her hair—full of glitter and fragrance— seemed to hit me when she shook her head. "What I mean, my dear," she explained, "Is that you better get used to that reaction: Something tells me you'll be receiving it all night."

The carriage door had closed behind us, and soon the crack of the whip and cries of the horses were heard, and we were off.

The roads were smooth and occasionally bumpy, resulting in Charlie, Renee, and myself all flying three inches above our seats, and mother's insanely addictive laughter penetrating the walls. But when the roads were relatively calm, all was quiet.

"Bella, dear," Renee said, her voice airy, "Aren't you excited about attending this year's party-...er....I mean ceremony? After all, I know how you feel about the lost boy, and I'm sure you know why this ceremony is far more important than the other ones you've attended."

Before I could reply, Charlie beat me to it. "What are you talking about?" he asked, "What's so special about this one?"

And I agreed.

It seemed to be the same continuous cycle, year after year, party after party. What could be so special about this year's ceremony from the last one?

And yet.....my attention was caught, my interest peaked.

For many years, Renee had caught on with my infatuation with the lost boy.

With my Edward Cullen.

She seemed to know how special he was to me, for whatever reason, and instead of consoling me, she supported me. Everything I knew about him came from her, whether from her common knowledge or books or sources she would get to feed my imagination that would slowly, with each and every bit of information, piece together the mystery of his life. I secretley reached for my necklace that I hid under my shirt.

"Well." she said, her eyes dancing, "This is the 300th year anniversary of his death."

A small gasp escaped my throat, but I quickly sustained it.

Moments of silence filled the carriage, and the only thing that could be heard was the prodding of the horses on the path. Besides that, all was quiet.

This was unbelievable.

The sheer fact that it was 300 years ago today that Edward went missing was outstanding enough, but my mother and I knew what else the 300 year mark meant, the bigger picture.

It was said that Edward's lover was killed by three people.

It was also said then when he vanished, only three of his belongings were taken with him:

His sword.

His book of herbs.

And a third artifact that was never uncovered. Legend says his father was so aghast that he never mentioned it to anybody, and that anybody who ever told the secret would be killed.

So that stood a mystery, a secret lost in time.

The number three is obviously a big deal.

And today, the 300th year anniversary of his death....was breathtaking.

What wonders would happen?

"Three hundred years already, eh?"

Charlie was the first to break the silence, his voice thoughtful, "That's a mighty long time to rap your head around."

"Sure is." Renee agreed.

They exchanged this and more, going back and forth to try and lift up the tension in the carriage. But my mind was still dancing around the momentous occasion that this year brought, my thoughts traveling and igniting all sorts of magical occurrences that could happen.

I felt that tonight, something would happen.

For better or for worse.

I just _knew_ it.

…_....._but that epiphany didn't distract me completely away from other thoughts.

Charlie had still not answered my questions, still gave no explanation on why he dressed me up the way he did.

He didn't know about my infatuation with the Lost Boy.

He very obviously pointed out that he also didn't know about the epic anniversary of the ceremony.

So what was he excuse?

"Dad...." I started, trying to get his attention away from my mother, "I wanted to ask you something."

Seeming surprised yet thankful for my participation, he opened his arms. "Sure." he breathed, " Ask anything you'd like."

Of course I couldn't blame Charlie; Every time around this year I became a sappy, tempered, little shrew.

My sweet probing tone seemed to be a slap to his voice, a very nice, warm, _welcoming_ slap to the face.

He undeniably expected a snarl from me.

I decided to wait a few moments until I answered, thinking of the right way to phrase my question. Even though she tried not to make it obvious, I could feel Renee's stare on me, hard and curious.

I cleared my throat. "Charlie..." I resumed slowly, thoughtfully, "When I was getting ready, Madam Buye told me that you made her go through all the trouble of getting fresh ingredients for my makeup. The tailor also said that he was late because you told him to get expensive silk. Why did you dress me up so phenomenally tonight?..... I mean....why so extravagant _today_? I never gone though this much trouble for the ball before. And you just admitted you had no idea about the ceremony....so.....any explanations?"

As _soon_ as my question came out, the smile that grazed Charlie's face before altogether vanished, leaving instead, a very uncomfortable grimace. Renee also looked a bit flustered, a state that was very rare for her to be in.

My eyes narrowed.

Something was _definitely_ going on.

"Well?" I shot, anticipation thick in my voice, "What are you planning?"

I could hear Renee cough, her and Charlie exchanging stares and glances, as if waiting for one or the other to answer. Their silent conversation made me feel uneasy, made my mind go a thousand different directions as to where this question could lead to.

Knowing them, the possibilities were endless.

"Answer me!" I demanded, trying to break their silence, "What are you hiding from me?"

Charlie took in a breath, looking away from me.

"N..not—nothing dear." he mumbled, his gaze outside the window, "I just wanted to make you feel amazing tonight."

Wanted me to feel _amazing_ tonight?

Was that really his answer?

I mean, how dumb could I possibly have seemed to him? Did he really believe that me, with all the schooling and lessons and common sense he put me though, did he actually believe that answer would suffice?

Ridiculous.

My eyebrows raised in distress as I turned around and looked at my mother. She was looking down at her gloves, pretending to be occupied.

"Is that a stain?" she grumbled, playing with her fingers, "My..."

This nonsense seemed to go on forever, and every bump and turn on the road never felt like it was going to end. It was physically painful to be inside that carriage, the tension so thick you couldn't even breathe.

I could feel my heart beat inside of my chest, could feel every pulse that illuminated from my body.

Soon, I found that I couldn't stand it for much longer, and I _needed_ to know what my parents were disastrously trying to hide from me.

"You want me to look amazing tonight?" I repeated, my gaze long and hard at Charlie's face, "Is that the truth?"

He grunted. "Why of course it is."

I looked at Renee. "Mother," I started, "Is he lying?"

I watched as she exhaled slowly, picking her words carefully, as if the very act of breathing was tiresome. "Would your father lie to you?" was her clever reply, "Don't ask such nonsense."

It was like she slapped me in the face.

"_Nonsense_?" I couldn't believe my ears, " If you want me to stop asking _nonsense_, then stopping answering me with _such nonsenses_!"

My anger was out, my pent up frustrations finally unleashed. The immaturity of my parents had gotten to me, and I found that I couldn't control my temper. It was unbelievable.

"Looking away like common thieves!" I ranted, pointing an accusing finger to my offenders, "Why, am I a _stranger_ to you two? Have I ever lied to either one of you, even _once_? Have I not _earned_ your trust? Going about hiding secrets, making me feel like a complete loony! Mother, Father, please....you have not raised an changeling. I can tell when you two are hiding something from me, and all I ask of you is that you tell me what it is. _Please_."

My desperate cry seemed to stir them up a bit, making them feel obvious discomfort and shame. Charlie looked away, Renee looked at Charlie, and I looked at the both of them.

Minutes ticked by as if they were trying to come up with some story to puke out at me, hoping it would feed my fire.

Finally, after a few more 'silent' conversation between the two of them, Charlie was the first to speak.

"Honey, it's not that we don't trust you. We do."

"More than anything." Renee piped in.

"But I feel that if we were to tell you about tonight, you will......not be the happiest person at the ball."

I waited to hear more, but nothing came. Charlie seemed to shut off at the last remark, and Renee went down along with him. I could feel my fingers clutching into fists, my body shaking with anger.

"Well?" I asked, my voice acidic, "You can't leave off at that. What are you two talking about? Whatever you have to say, you can say it to me without worrying about me lashing out. I am 17 years of age, let me remind you. I can take anything you have to tell me."

Charlie coughed up a 'ya right', but then quickly bit it back. I even heard Renee hide a chuckle of disbelief.

"Honey," he started, meeting my gaze for the first time, "Even though your mother and I trust you, you have to admit that you're not the greatest bearer of bad news. We are just not sure if you can handle what we need to tell you."

Renee reached out and grabbed my hand, stroking it. "Your father is right, you know," she agreed, her eyes soft, "We just want to make sure you take the news right. And our primary fear is that if we tell you now, well, you won't take it well."

The caution in my parent's eyes made me feel a little scared, made me feel sick to my stomach about what they had to tell me. I knew that it had to be something huge, otherwise they would never go through this much trouble trying to hide it from me. I took a gulp.

"I'm ready." I said, my voice surprisingly confident, "I promise that I won't get angry, I promise that I will still go to the ball and be there for my duties."

Moments of silence passed inside of the carriage, and the intensity was so bad I couldn't cut it with a knife. I heard Renee take in a deep breath, while Charlie released one. Shaking his head with reluctance, he met my gaze.

"Alright, Bella." he said, his voice unwaivering, "I'll tell you."

"Charlie-" Renee tried to cut in, but got stopped with his hand.

"She's ready." he said, defiantly. Renee stood quiet.

"Bells," he finally began, not taking his eyes off of me, "You are now seventeen years of age. You are a young women, prime on the business of royal duties. Now your mother and I have been putting this off for quite some time, but we feel that tonight, at this ball, _now_ is the perfect opportunity for you. And I wanted you to look your best."

Charlie became quiet again, and I was almost too afraid to speak up.

"And....?" I whispered, bracing myself for the impact.

I watched as he wiped his head with both his hands, his face tense as he summed up the courage to speak again.

And what he said would change my life forever.

"Your mother and I agree that it's about high time you got married. Tonight, at this ball, we're going to find you a fiancé."

**Authors Note:** Hello my beautiful readers and HAPPY HOLIDAYS! And speaking of happy, I am excited and honored to say that my official Beat Reader is.....TWIFAN! She is an amazing person and she gives me soooo much insight and corrective grammar, so be sure to thank her for me actually updating! And like always, review review review....it would be your present to me!


	3. Chapter 3

The Seven Seas

Chapter Three: Welcome Home

By: Maggiles

"_Rivalry is the life of trade, and the death of the trader."_

_--Elbert Hubbard_

**Bella**

Blinding lights surrounded me on all sides, the sound of elegant festive music playing and the smell of divine cuisine being cooked and put on the table simply _filled_ my senses. Hundreds of people were gathered together, dancing, talking, and as far as the maidens went, flirting with soon to be entrepreneurs or noblemen. I gagged.

I was taught never to talk to strangers.

That was the golden rule. If I was ever to be alone somewhere—which a true lady never was, at least not without a chaperone—I was told from a very young age the damage such an encounter could make. I could be kidnapped, stolen, hurt, attacked, ransomed….such _tragic_ fates. Strangers were bad, and talking to them without a proper third party of introduction was unheard of. So the way I saw it, standing inside a ballroom, with hundreds of people I didn't know, all of them covered up in elegant masks and gowns, well, this was a very dangerous situation. And since this was so incredibly horrid, the solution to this problem was simple: Leaving.

But as I looked towards my beloved parents and saw their stern eyes watching me, taking note of all of my gestures, of my encounters, not letting me escape from their overbearing umbrella of authority, I sighed in defeat. My heart sank, and I just knew they were going to crawl on every corner of the mansion until they found a brute—oh excuse me, _gentlemen _that would be a suitable partner for my life.

_My_ life.

"I have to get out of here…"I muttered, feeling sick, even anxious, "I need to breathe."

I made my way through the crowd (which was not an easy feat considering there was barley any room to squeeze through without having to meet some acquaintances) until I got to the very end of the room, completely opposite of where my parents stood to mingle. But I was not alone. Somehow, someway, I had run into the Arch Bishop Oier and his sister, who somehow seemed to notice me from the massive crowd.

"Lady Isabella?" Oier asked, guiding his sister to my horror stricken body, "Is that you under there?"

I could have lied. I really could have. I mean, I was dolled up much more then I had ever been in previous occasions, this gown was absolutely new and made just this morning, not to mention half my face was masked. It could've been so easy. But I couldn't lie. I just didn't know how to, and when I tried, it failed miserably. "You have an impeccable ability in recognizing people," I said through my teeth, "Sir Oier, Madam Oier,"—I curtsied—"How pleasant to see you."

Madam Oier lifted an eyebrow. "As you." She replied curtly. Madam Oier had this unmovable notion that she was the most stunning creature to walk the earth. Her hair was brown, her lips always blood red, and through the wrinkles that covered her face and body, she remained stick skinny. A mole by her lips was her prized possession, a "beauty mark" as she called it, but in reality she was repulsive. Her personality didn't make up for her looks, for it was just as bad as that mole. And believe me, there was nothing beautiful about it. Sir Oier, on the other hand, was her complete opposite as far as looks went. He was large, red, jubilant, and pride ridden of his wealth. These two people strived on their social status, and lacked depth of any shape or form. In fact, it was common knowledge to agree with everything they said in order to leave the conversation quickly. One objection to their many "bright" ideas, and you would be glued to their presence until the end of time. "You look absolutely beautiful tonight." Sir Oier noted, taking me in, "Absolutely stunning. What's the occasion?"

He laughed at this, his piggish face turning red with even the smallest amount of effort, but Madam Oier didn't crack a smile. She just stared at me. "Please excuse my brother," she trailed, her eyes slanted, "He doesn't consider the feelings of others when he opens his mouth." Sir Oier glared, but she persisted. "But he is right. You look…exquisite. We were just talking about you, my people and I,"—and by her 'people' she meant all the poor souls who were forced to be in her presence—"We were all saying, my, that Isabella Swan is not married yet! And by this age…" she smirked at me, "We were all beginning to think there was a fault in you. Do tell me for I am dying to know, have you found a fiancé yet? Don't tell me that you are _still_ proposition-less…"

_SLAP._

A vein exploded on the inside of my head, and all I could see was red. This WITCH, this disgusting flee bag who had once walked in the presence of Jesus himself was disgracing MY breeding? How dare she. "I'm afraid I haven't found him yet." I replied sweetly, and at this Sir Oier seemed taken aback, "But the search is on."

Madam Oier smiled. "Oh do not fret, dear. There really is nothing to be ashamed of. I mean…if all else fails, you will still have your father to take care of you."

"Ida…" Sir Oier warned, looking uncomfortable.

"No, Sir Oier," I assured, "Madam Oier is perfectly correct. I am not ashamed whatsoever. And may I point something out?"

"Of course."

Grabbing her hand, I turned her position so she was facing the royal doctor. "Sir Humphrey over there has specialized in the removal of unsightly facial scars. You've been suffering from that horrible mark on your face—you can ask him to finally get it off for you."

Her hand tensed, and at this I let it go, feeling tremendously proud of myself. I was actually disappointed that she was wearing a mask: The look on her face would have been absolutely priceless. "It's a beauty mark." She growled from underneath her mask, "And let me assure you, Isabella, many women can only _wish_ they were so lucky."

I smiled thoughtfully. "Oh, I'm sorry for the confusion madam Oier. But frankly, I don't think any woman with a mirror of any kind would wish that on them."—I came closer to her—"Between you and I, many men here seem to think it leprosy."

She gasped, shocked, and Sir Oier looked on hopelessly confused. I curtsied. "If you will excuse me, Sir Oier, Madam Oier." I left as quickly as I could, but before I did I turned around. "And Madam Oier, please address me as Lady Isabella. I may be nothing but a child, but my rank is higher than your own."

Madam Oier was still in utter shock, and I could hear her snarls. "That DOG," she ranted to Sir Oier, "That complete _animal_!"

"I know sister, I know."

"How DARE she?"

Rolling my eyes I tried to find a quiet corner. By the refreshments sat two chairs, both of which were already filled. I cursed under my breath, frustrated. There was no escape, no chance for me to get away from all these self righteous fools who had nothing to their name but their fancy clothes and paper money. Where was the adventure, the values, the personality and depth that I strived to find? Those things did not exist here, not in this place, in this world. Not at all. It seemed to strike me there that this was the situation in which I would end up dying. Finding some boring horrid husband, bearing as many kin as I could, and then dying quietly and without any significance.

It was a terrible nightmare, a fate I wished on no one. Even Madam Oier! Maybe if she could find a spouse with any type of soul her very own could be saved! Who knew? No one did, and do you know why? Because it has never happened. Never. Rich men married rich woman, and then they had rich children and the cycle continued from there. Always.

Where in the world was my seepage?

"Excuse me?"

I turned around surprised, and in my vision filled the image of a young man—no older then nineteen—with dark chestnut hair and tan skin. He wore a typical suit of a rich man, a tuxedo of sorts, but that's exactly what it was. Of sorts. Instead of the polished tucked in, slicked back look, he was all over the place. His shirt was slightly ruffed up, his pants hanging unusually low and loose, his tie unfastened and flat against his broad chest. Through his mask—which was just as dark as his suit—shined his eyes, brown and bright, dancing eyes, outlined in thick black lashes which made him look absolutely incredible. Never had I seen so much life…all in a single glance.

"Umm….yes?" was my clever reply.

"I don't mean to be easzdropping or anythin', but I heard what you said to that old lady back there." He pointed to Madam Oier who seemed to still be in a rage, drinking her champagne with her lips pursed and bitter.

"Oh." I said, feeling slightly embarrassed, "Did you now? You must think the worst of me."

"No." he said quickly, "Not at all. In fact, it was the most exciting thing to happen at this ball so far. This place is a lot less amusin' then I thought it would be."

He could have been a dream come true. The man I had been waiting to meet, the sweet escape I had been praying for, all until this _pesky_ little thought that had been laying dormant in the back of my head came around full throttle. _Did my parents send him to me_?

Whether he was or not, my guard was already in full position to get him away from me. My pleasant attitude quickly turned bitter as I spoke. "If my parents sent you, then I suggest you leave. I don't find you the least attractive, and I would rather pick weeds from a miserable garden patch then have you courting me."

I watched for his reaction, and while he winced I was scoping the ballroom for my parents, who I decided to kill later on. But to my surprise, once again, he had caught me off guard.

He started _laughing_. "Now I _know_ I like you," he smiled, pulling out his hand in front of me, "My name's Jacob Black. And I can promise you your parents didn't send me. In fact, I'll bet I don't even know them."

I stared at his hand, out in front of me the way it would be in front of my father…in front of _men_. Women, especially that of good breeding, _never_ shook hands with a man. It was unheard of. Rather, the man would bow and gently kiss it, never shake. It was common mannerism. "Now I KNOW my parents didn't send him…" I muttered to myself, still transfixed on his open palm.

He stared at me. "Oh, I see." He said, grabbing my hand gently, "I guess you're that kind of girl who wants me to kiss it, huh?" At this I blushed instantly, embarrassed, and before he could kiss my hand, I pulled it away. He looked up at me, confused. "I'm as capable as any man." I asserted roughly, awkwardly pulling out my hand in front of him as he did, "Now tremble…"

"Um…you mean 'shake'?" He laughed at this and took my hand and shook it. "Mighty shame too." He chuckled through his smile, "I was lookin' forward to kissing a pretty girl like you."

I felt my cheeks flush, and my knees tremble a bit. There was something about this guy, his personality, his spirit that made me feel so…so vulnerable. And yet, I couldn't get enough of it.

"My name is Isabella Marie Swan." I said, curtseying out of habit, "And I'm the only daughter of Royal Chief Swan and Lady Swan. They are head of all security in the land, and they stand next to King Mason and Queen Mason."

He blinked, speechless. "Well," he whistled, "Seems like a mouthful to me. Would it be ok if I just called you Bells? Short and sweet and to the point. Plus, I think it matches you a lot better."

Now it was _my_ turn to be speechless. I had only just met him and he was already getting so familiar with me. Not even people I had known since I was a child have ever called me _Bells_. It was always Lady Isabella, or Madam Swan. Never even Isabella.

"So I guess your waitin' for me to have a go, right?" he tried to stand taller, and his voice became very stiff, no doubt mocking the rest of the way nobility spoke, and at this I smiled. "Like I said earlier, my name is Jacob Black, only son to Billy Black, new money on account of finding a diamond mine on our land. We have no ties to nobility, but money seems to do the trick."

I giggled, and his eyes seem to immediately burst with new life at this, as if he accomplished something very important. "Awww a laugh!" he said jubilantly, "And I was beginning to think you couldn't stand me."

"I'll have to admit," I smiled, "At first I thought you were some sort of captive that found their way to this ball."

"Ouch."

"Please don't take it personally."

"Oh, believe me, I've already forgotten what you said. Seems like a lot of people feel the same way."

His eyes were piercing into mine, and I found it hard to speak. For some reason, it became incredibly difficult to put words together in a simple cohesive sentence_. 'Ask him a simple question!_' my mind screamed at me, '_Don't let him get away!"_

"So umm…er—your father!" I cried, feeling immense relief I could speak, "Is he here?"

"Yup…course he is." He seemed disappointed in my question, and I couldn't help but want to slap myself. What was I? My mother?

Walking closer to me, he held my waist and moved me in the position necessary to view his father. I blushed, my face getting hot, the skin around where he made contact burning with incredible sensations. "He's the handsome devil talking to those corporate scumbags—er, I mean entrepreneurs." He whispered to me, "No doubt their trying to buy our land."

With my face and ears burning with the feel of his hot breath, I swallowed. "And would that be such a bad thing?" I asked, "If they were willing to pay a fair price."

"Of course!" he hissed, not rudely naturally, "Our land is more important to us than any diamond mine. Our culture, our heritage, our people all depend on it. In fact, I think it's the one place not infested with these money hungry tycoons."

I listened to what he said, and studied his father. They shared many of the same qualities. Tall, tan, dark hair and eyes. They must be natives, I thought, but native or not, Jacob was impeccablely handsome…incredibly handsome.

After Jacob felt I had gawked at his father long enough, he began asking me questions.  
"So…you come to this place every year?"

I nodded. "Every year since I could walk."

"Wow. I can barely stand it myself…"

"Believe me, you'll never get used to it."

He laughed, and in turn it made me smile. His laughter was so warm, so…so…hearty. It filled you right up.

"I see…well, how many people here do you know?"

"Almost all of them…actually now that I have met you and seen your father, I guess I know them all."

"Incredible. There's hundreds of people here!"

"When you're forced to be around them your whole life, they'll be sketched into your memory."

"Is that so?" he said, his eyes dancing, "Then I guess since you're the first person I've been properly introduced to, I'll _never_ forget you."

Why? Why did he say that? Immediately I felt giddy, my heart beating as I stared up at him. "It's a good thing to. But first person or not, I don't think I could ever forget a face like yours." He lifted my chin gently yet very quickly—a very dangerous move, far too forward for any young man to take, and yet I didn't care—"Are…are you, um…engaged?"

I could tell the question was awkward for him to ask, but this was one question I was more then ready to answer. "No." I breathed quickly, "No, I'm not."

His eyes widened, surprised, and he smiled from ear to ear. Such a nice smile, I thought as I melted, so very warm. "Well, Bella, I formally ask your permission to dance."

"Well I respectfully decline."

"Huh?" Jacob looked confused and I bit my lip. I should have known this was coming.

"It's not you," I suddenly blurted, "Please believe me. I can't dance for the life of me."

"You can't? A real royal belle like you? I gotta say, Bells, I can't seem to figure you out no matter how hard I try."

I frowned. "Of course you can't. I just met you."

He blinked at my seriousness, and then burst out laughing. We received a few stares, and as we did I noticed maidens taking longer stares then necessary at Jacob. Oh no, I thought, they'll be rushing over here.

"I suggest we leave." I hissed at him, pleading, "If we don't I fear the worst for you."

He stopped laughing slowly, eyeing me. "What? Why?"

But it was too late. Before I could answer a mob of about eight maidens all came walking towards Jacob and myself, pushing me aside. A particularly annoying girl pushed me out of their apparent circle. "Move Lady Isabella," one of them jeered, "Go flirt with old Mr. Globly. Two old people are perfect matches."

"Oh really? I see you got rejected. Apparently old Mr. Globly had taste."

The girl glowered at me, and this sudden out coming of Jacob seemed to catch on. Soon, many people around us surrounded him trying to catch his name and his net weight no doubt. I was mercilessly shoved into a corner.

"Bells!" Jacob breathed catching my eye before he was whisked away, "Don't leave without saying goodbye, alright?!"

I smiled weakly and watched as he disappeared through the crowd, most likely never to be seen again, at least not without a wedding band on his finger. I looked at my shoes before looking back up at the direction he strayed to. At least my Edward, the lost boy, the one man whom I truly loved, would never have left me.

"Goodbye." I muttered bitterly before turning away and vanishing through the crowed.

**Edward**

Everything was going according to plan….until we had reached the entrance. There seemed to be more guards and people outside then I had anticipated, and there was no way to allow all my men inside at once.

Absurd! How could this have happened? I put all the blame on me alone, cursing the fact that I had not allowed myself to be better prepared. I guess I had let the fact I had once taken residence in this mansion to be a deciding factor. Foolish.

"Eddie!" Emmett hissed, leading the men into a large tree overlooking the festivities, "What do we do now? There's no way we can get in without creating a scene! Look—"–he proceeded to point at some glowing rocks behind the house, a signal my men used for large distances. But I could already read their minds and note the failure—"Even the windows and backdoors are locked with people. We can't get in."

Even though Emmett stopped at that, I could read the thoughts he was thinking, things he not dared to say out loud. _"Didn't you LIVE here before? Can't you remember some sort of secret hideaway or entrance to get inside the damned house?"_

I turned around, frowning. "It's not as simple as you'd think," I replied curtly in despondence to his sheepish smile, "It's been 300 years, mind you, and things have changed. Not to mention the only 'secret hideaways' are rooms inside the home which requires a ridiculously amount of problem solving. We never were the creative type."

"Oh…heh."

I used my vision to it's extent and looked as far into the house as I could, and along the way I tried to think of the best course of action. My eyes scanned the exterior quickly, noting any windows, back ways, weak supervision…..AHA! I jumped from the tree quickly, craning my neck to get a better view. Soon, Emmett and the rest of my men joined me. "The old balcony," I whispered excitedly, pointing, "Get Jasper and the rest of the crew. I need to give orders."

Emmett nodded and signaled the men to get ready, and in a blink of an eye they were higher than the trees themselves. Emmett clapped his hand three times, and in his case, the noise of booming thunder cracked out, shaking the ground. I could hear the thought of rain on some human's minds, but I tried to zone it out. In seconds the rest of my team arrived, surrounding me.

"What's your plan?" Jasper asked, alert, "The whole back ways surrounded completely."

I stood quiet, registering. "It seems to me," I explained, "That the notion 'power in numbers' is quite absurd in this situation. We will not all be able to get inside and enjoy the party after all."

A few of my men moaned at this, no doubt put down by the lack of adventure. "We will need to break this party up significantly. Jasper, Emmett,"—they looked up at me dutifully, "You two will come with me. The rest of you…in a short matter of time you will see me on the garden balcony right there—" I pointed to the royal garden, filled with beautiful trees and shrubs, fountains and shining marble floors, "And I shall give you a signal. This means that I have cleared the way for you to take the second exit, down by the old kitchen, to get through. Go as quickly as you can and find me. We'll take it from there."

We all shared a look before disappearing into the night.

By this time, all the guests had already arrived, and the main entrance of the mansion was filled with onlookers and guards. "Fix your mask, brothers," I whispered, "Appearance is everything."

"Yes, but how shall we get _inside_ is my question." Emmett sneered.

Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out a handsome bag of gold. "Believe me brother; in this life money talks louder the words. Or if they refuse…we'll kill them."

Jasper smiled. "Of course. Brilliant plan."

"Not quickly of course. We'll make it look like pure bliss."

As we approached the steps and the large golden doors, two guards blocked our way, their swords pointed directly at us. "You cannot enter without invitation." One said sternly, roughly, "For all three of you."

Emmett chuckled. "Is that so?" he walked forward menacingly as I tossed the money at them. "No invitation men," I explained softly, "But no one said I could not buy one. I'm sure there are no objectives?"

The three of us and the two of them huddled together to create a sort of circle, and once being weighed and bitten by both men, they decided that our gold was indeed real. They stepped back, nodding stiffly. "Welcome to the ball." One said through a smile, "Three invitations happily accepted."

"Thank you."

The doors opened, and we made our way inside. "Amazing!" Emmett breathed, once inside, "That was too easy! Why didn't we just get all our men in it?"

"Twenty men are a lot different then only three, Emmett." Jasper replied, "Even with money, we could not get inside without some sort of discretion."

"I know that, but…."

As the two of them bickered, I, myself, could not speak.

I was back inside my old home. Temporarily, even if for just a moment, back in my old life. The ball room had not changed a bit since last time I had been inside it three hundred years ago. The ceiling was covered with paintings and chandeliers, the white marble floors were gleaming with light and sparkles, musicians played their exquisite symphonies while guests who were all dressed extravagantly swayed and danced and mingled and shared business deals. The smells of food and perfume and the heat that aroused from all the movement filled my senses, and somewhere deep inside of me, in the very outskirts of my soul, I could've sworn I felt something.

Sorrow? Happiness? I could not tell. But it was there, that I was sure of. Emmett and Jasper had kept quiet the whole time.

"Edward?" Jasper asked, breaking my serenity, "Jasper and I will clear the way for the men. Once we give our signal you can get the other mates inside. Just wait for us by the balcony." And with that they were gone, vanishing into thin air. I stayed where I was, closing my eyes and taking in all the glory.

**Bella**

Some time had passed by and there was still no sign of Jacob Black anywhere. I don't know why I was waiting for him, as if he would really come back and strike up some witty excuse for his absence. But how could I blame him?

He was new money.

And by the sounds of it, he was worth a lot. I found myself drifting from place to place, small conversations here and there, and above all else avoiding my parents when I saw them with a young man and a smile on their faces. I didn't know how I could take much longer of this.

"ISABELLA!" My neck cringed, and I dreadedly turned around to see but who? My dear beloved childhood friends. There was Jessica and Angela, all dressed up and positively beaming. Angela was quiet and kind, and I truly did love her. Jessica on the other hand…she was a tricky one to master.

"Girls!" I cried with fake glee as I walked into their embraces, "How are you two doing this evening?"

"Great." Angela said softly, "How are you doing Isabella?"

I smiled at Angela, touched by her sweetness. Before I could respond Jessica grabbed my arm, jerking me to the side. "Ow," I muttered.

"Look Isabella!" she whispered, pointing at Mike Newton and Eric Yorkie, young sons of old money, "Let's invite them over!"

"Oh...no…"

But before I could object Angela yelled out their names, followed by a few puzzled stares, and they came like animals to its master. Jessica had quite an infatuation with Mike, and she couldn't seem to control herself when he was around. Angela and Eric on the other hand…rumor had it they were a secret couple. But I never asked. It wasn't any of my business.

"Sir Mike!" Angela giggled though her mask and big blonde hair, "It's so pleasant to see you here."

"You too." He said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Miss. Isabella," he said, eyeing me, "You look _beautiful_." Smiling I curtsied. "Thank you." I mumbled, "So what have you been up to?"

I could feel Jessica's envious glare hitting my face, all the while Angela and Eric were in some quiet deep conversation. Mike Newton always fancied me. He asked for my hand but I turned him down, and for some bizarre reason he wouldn't stop. If he knew my parent's agenda I would never hear the end of it.

"Just enjoying the party," he said, "Everything looks amazing tonight."

"Do I look amazing, Mike?" Angela giggled, twirling around, "This dress is brand new, just shipped in from France!"

Mike raised an eyebrow feeling uncomfortable. "Um, Sure. You look good, Jessica."

Feeling some awkwardness, I broke the silence. "Of course everything looks great today," I explained, "It's the 300th anniversary of the Prince's death."

Jessica and Mike looked at me, and even Angela and Eric broke off their conversation in thoughtfulness. "Wow," Eric said, whistling, "Three hundred years is a mighty long time."

"Sure is." Mike pitched in.

As I explained the legend, Jessica didn't seem to like how long Mike was staring at me, or the fact that we were not completely awed by her presence. She pushed me aside. "Well, I don't see the big deal," she scoffed, opening her fan, "He's a dead prince. No longer valuable to us."

Angela smiled weakly at this, and everybody seemed to be going along with her, but not me. I felt angry, positively furious, and for some reason I could never explain I felt the need to defend his case. "He's not some stupid dead prince," I said through my teeth, "Legend says he's still alive, and my mother and I believe he's here in this room right now. He's coming back."

Conversation stopped immediately, and all their eyes were focused on me. I blushed a little, feeling foolish, but stood my ground. Jessica was first to laugh. "Are you serious?" she breathed, mocking, "Isabella, honey, it's been three hundred years. Murdered or not, he would be dead anyhow! How can you believe such foolishness?" She looked at Mike for some kind of support, but he continued staring at me. I felt so foolish.

"Well, maybe it _is_ true."

The voice who spoke was not me, Jessica, Angela, Eric, or Mike. In fact, it was a whole other person. We turned around and I almost fainted. In front of us was the most dashing fellow I had seen tonight. He was a bit taller than Mike, who was tall to begin with, with messy brown hair and pale white skin. He was dressed in a dark and silver suit, and his mask was gleaming with such sparkle it made you blind for a few seconds. His build was good, fit, and his voice was pure seduction. For a moment I was able to break my gaze from him and turned to Jessica, but her mouth was opened and almost drooling. Angela was stiff with awe, and even Mike and Eric were astonished.

I began to wonder. _How_ many new men were at this ball, for I surely had never seen him before. I thought of Jacob and how diamond mines must have been popping up like a forest fire.

"The lost boy…" he said, smiling, "is that what you call him?"

No one spoke, but I found my voice. "Yes." I said, "But…His real name was Edward Cullen."

I _swore_ I saw his eyes dance. What that meant I couldn't explain, but his eyes seem to flash, burn, and it was the most incredible thing I had seen ever. Their color was auburn, outlined in light silver, covered with thick eyelashes. My mind wandered to Jacob. Both were amazingly handsome, but this man had a different attractiveness then when it came to Jacob. This man was beautiful, even if half his face was covered.

"Ahhh," he said, "Edward Cullen. It's been three hundred years since his death."

Jessica nodded, stiff, and then she spoke. "Er…yes. I feel horrible for him, what a poor soul."

I twitched, utterly annoyed at her fickleness. But I couldn't judge; I was mesmerized also.

"Do you now?" he said, his eyes scrutinizing, "I could have sworn you said his death didn't really matter."

Jessica blushed at this shaking her head. How humiliating, I thought. I wasn't really liking this man, the way he forced himself on people and made them feel idiotic. He didn't even introduce himself!

"They killed his love," I suddenly blurted out, stern, "They destroyed his life. How could he have ever moved on to the next life with such a broken heart?"

He looked at me, and I couldn't read his expression. "You are very infatuated with this fellow, aren't you?" he asked, unconsciously getting closer to me, "The way you speak of him…I could swear you were in love."

I didn't say anything.

Mike, on the other hand, didn't appear to like this man getting close to me. He butted in. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, taking him in, "But I don't think you've introduced yourself. What's your name?"

His eyes didn't move from mine as he spoke. "I only introduce myself to people I find interesting." He said coolly, "And so far, you have not made the cut."

"Huh?" Mike seemed blown away, but Eric pulled him back before he could do something. "Let it go," Eric whispered, "Let's leave before you do something stupid." The two left, expecting us to follow, but when the three of us didn't they frowned and left, vanishing into the crowd. Even though this stranger was growing more and more ruder by the second, he mesmerized me and I couldn't leave. Jessica and Angela apparently felt the same way.

"Tell me," he smiled, his lips breathtaking, "If it were up to you, what would you have him do? If he were to come back?"

His stare was intense, and I felt that the answer I chose was something he would be analyzing. Jessica and Angela didn't take their eyes off of him. But as I looked past his shoulder, I noticed that _everyone_ was staring at him, at _us_, and in the very back of the room was Jacob, looking at me intently. I frowned.

"Well," I mumbled, "His pain must have been unbearable. He had loved that woman so much. With all his heart."

"He did. And what do you think about them?"

"Well…from the stories she was a peasant. A servant, lower. But that doesn't matter. Er, at least it shouldn't. Love is something that few have these days. And if one can really grasp it, well, I would never let it go."

His eyebrows rose. "You have a lot of wisdom for someone so young. Even radical. And what kind of revenge would he take? What's justified?"

I felt so out of place, everybody was staring, Jacob was watching me, my parents even from across the room eyed me, and people seemed just as mesmerized by him as I was. I gulped. "Anything." I breathed.

"Anything?"

"He should take what they took from him. His world."

He seemed speechless. "Really, now. You truly believe that?"

"With all my heart."

After that we didn't speak, and his gaze was so intense I thought I felt burning on my face from his eyes. I looked down, playing with my necklace that remained hidden inside my dress, yet the chain was around my neck.

He eyed this.

"What…" he said, "What is that around your neck?"

I froze, taken back by his forward question. I had never shown anyone my necklace, never wanted to share this part of me, but for some reason I felt as if he was justified in seeing it. I _wanted_ to show him. Trembling, I lifted the necklace and from my bosom the single angel's wing appeared, dangling at the end of the chain in a blinding shimmer. "Beautiful, isn't it?" I sighed, watching it dance, "I had it since I could remember, but…I have never shown it to anyone."

Jessica and Angela stared at me but then quickly lost interest, but as I looked up and saw his face, he was shocked, stricken. He looked sick. His was stiff, speechless, seemingly in a stagger, and he didn't budge. My heart skipped a beat. What was wrong?

I quickly looked down at myself, worried that I had let something other than the necklace out, but everything was fine. Looking back up I saw his lips move. "Where…" muttered, shaken, shocked, for once unable to find words, "Where….where in the _world_ did you get that?"

My voice became slightly alarmed. Something was happening, but I was too foolish to think before I spoke. If I had looked closer, I would have noticed the intent in his question. "It was when I was a young child. I had received it by some beggar I had met on the street. I've kept it ever since."

"Ah!"

What happened next I couldn't be sure why it happened, or how, but before I knew it he had grabbed my hands and held them to his so tight, and I winced because he was ice cold and hard, and I felt my heart beating like crazy because his touch was so delicious. "I think it's about time I introduced myself." He breathed, excited, his lips forming a crooked smile, "My name is Edward Cullen, and you are the person I have been looking three hundred years for."

**Author's Note:** _REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW_! Sorry I died for four months, but you'll be happy to hear I'm back. I can't apologize enough, but if you **review** your feelings, you will feel a lot better! Let me know if my writing has gotten rusty in that four moth death period! Or just stop by and give some comments. Haha getting interesting ,no? Nice long chapter to hopefully make up for my absence! OH YA! I think you will enjoy the story better if you read it in the 3/4 page version of the page. its alot less spread out~


End file.
